


Into the Void

by geminiwrites



Series: Into the Void [1]
Category: Kpop - Fandom, Starlights, VIXX
Genre: F/M, brief blood, mild supernatural violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geminiwrites/pseuds/geminiwrites
Summary: Korea was not prepared for the rush of unfamiliar people, weapons, and diseases that America brought. Their ships also carried a dark secret, the likes of which no one expected.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this in the spring of 2018 for a writing challenge on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it!

Sanghyuk stretched in the early morning light, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t had a break to go home in so long, but this was his last day with his family. He looked over their still sleeping figures, his heart heavy with regret. The hunters needed reinforcements when they heard ships from foreign lands were approaching fast. No one knew what they were carrying, which made everyone more apprehensive. They were only warned by the samjokgu that they needed to be heavily armed: danger was nearing. He had been recruited from the military to join them instead, the promise of early release tempting him. He didn’t know that came with fine print that he had to survive. Sanghyuk quietly crept out of the room to prepare for the day. He wanted to leave before they woke; the goodbyes would be harder if they saw him leave, knowing he might not come back. After dressing, he went out to ready his horse, wondering if he should leave a note for his parents. He quickly wrote out a short letter, promising them he would come home; he would have written more, but the tears in his eyes threatened to damage the paper and smear the ink. Gathering up the last of his belongings, he strapped them onto his horse, and with a heavy sigh, he rode into the misty morning.

—

She winced as she awoke, gingerly touching her arm to find blood. She didn’t recognize her surroundings and she barely remembered the night before. Standing hurt, her legs trembling as she forced herself to stay upright to find water. She could smell the damp air leading to a stream and followed it until she was in a clearing, where the sunlight shone down on her fresh cuts and bruises. Sighing, she washed the cuts after taking a few sips of the cold water. The previous night’s events began coming back to her; she remembered she was no longer home. For almost thirty days they had sailed across the world; for almost thirty days she had kept herself under control. But when she was no longer confined to hiding her condition from her shipmates, she found her instincts running wild. The new environment didn’t help, either. There were new scents, new sights, new creatures to explore. As much as she needed to hide the animal in her, she wanted nothing more than to release it and let it sate its appetite for the unknown. The flood of memories from the night before had returned to her and left her massaging her temples as she thought of what she needed to do next. The birds chirped happily in the trees, unaware of the slaughter that had taken place only a few kilometers away. First things first: she needed clothes and her crew.

—

Sanghyuk arrived at the fort to find chaos. People and horses were running wild; Sanghyuk did his best to grab another horse and take it to the post with his own. After tying up his horse and unloading it, he went to check in with the general to find out what happened: the ships had arrived with visitors, some of them unwanted. The soldiers at the coast had managed to fight off the human intruders, but something else escaped the ships and made its way up the mainland. Sanghyuk’s posting was the first of many small forts surrounding the cities. He wondered how the others fared after hearing the haechi that guarded their barracks had been found slaughtered. The only evidence left behind was shed sandy-colored tufts of fur and large, clawed paw prints in the dirt. Whatever it was would have had to been twice the size of the haechi to be able to take it down. It did not look like it was met with much struggle. Sanghyuk thanked the general for the information and left, going to see what he could help with in the barracks. As he rounded up the last of the frightened horses, he heard shouts from the gates: someone was approaching, a woman. He quickly left the horses in the stable and rushed to see what was going on. The shouts changed from fright to excitement, the men yelling out that she was naked and alone.

—

She had walked in the vague direction she remembered coming from the night before. She followed the sounds of soldiers, shouting in a language she didn’t recognize. If it was the barracks, would her shipmates be there? She still couldn’t remember what happened to them after they landed. She knew the foreign soldiers didn’t want them there and tried keeping them at the coast, the language barrier and fear of the unknown spurring on their fighting. But then night fell, and she had slipped away from the fray, her animal instincts taking over. She held her arms up when she noticed the first set of soldiers with rifles pointed at her. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but it was better than being shot on sight. They continued to yell commands at her, making her shake her head to let them know she did not know what they were telling her. She kneeled, keeping her hands above her head in surrender. They finally began lowering their weapons. Only a few stayed trained on her as two wary soldiers approached her with a robe. She thanked them, hoping the gratitude in her voice transcended language. Slipping on the robe, she stood, keeping her eyes down in submission. They grabbed her arms rougher than she thought they would, but she understood why. She would have reacted the same seeing a naked stranger emerge from the woods covered in cuts and bruises. She was surprised they were taking her in at all. She stayed compliant to not give away the strength she hid beneath the surface.

—

Sanghyuk pushed his way to the front of the crowd to see the woman. She didn’t look like much: she had tawny hair, green eyes, and he thought he could see scars where the fabric didn’t cover her olive skin. Whispering to the man next to him, he asked what they were going to do with her. The hunter shrugged. He didn’t care, he was only there for the shortened conscription. If Sanghyuk wanted to know anything, he would have to find a soldier. He followed them, slipping through the bustling men as best as his tall frame would allow. They took her to the general’s office. He frowned and waited outside the doors, trying to find something to look busy before getting caught eavesdropping. He accidentally knocked over a stand of swords and hurried to pick them up. The general exited with the soldiers after a few long moments, eyeing him scrambling to straighten the weapons as they walked away. Sanghyuk peeked into the room before the door shut to see the woman tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged, her robe now gone. He felt anger building up inside of his chest at the sight. He knew he couldn’t help her now, it would be too obvious. Why he felt the need to help her at all, he was not sure. After debating with himself if barging in, scooping her up in his arms, and running away would be helpful, he left to see if he could find any allies amongst the newly recruited hunters. 

—

She could hear and smell the man but tried to not show it. The less she let on that she was not entirely human, the better. She didn’t know what she was dealing with, but neither did they. She remembered his scent: a musky, leathery aroma. Much different from that of the general, who smelled like a courtesan’s cheap perfume. She had almost gagged at the cloyingly sweet smell as he had tied her up, leaning in to breathe on her neck after his men had removed the robe. She wondered why they gave it to her at all if she were to be left naked. At least they hadn’t tried to touch her; she could not have guaranteed their safety otherwise. The musky smell left her, and she waited, listening for other people at the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she flexed and ripped the flimsy bindings from her arms, then removed the blindfold. She was alone in the office, but she didn’t know how much time she had left. She tossed the gag aside and stood, searching for something to wear. They had left the robe on the desk and she quickly grabbed it, donning the silky material once again. There was no way out but the same door she entered, and she knew it was too risky to go strutting out right now while there was still light out. She wondered if she would make it out alive if she shifted and made a mad dash for the gates. She still didn’t know if her crew was here, however, and she wouldn’t find out if she terrorized the barracks before having a chance to look around.

—

Sanghyuk hadn’t found anyone to help him. He didn’t know anyone well enough yet and no one bought his crazy idea for stealing a woman from the general. Defeated, he returned to his quarters at dusk. The other hunters were there, most discussing what they were going to do with their paychecks and how glad they were that they weren’t soldiers anymore that didn’t have to stick around after this threat was cleared. No one seemed to care that whatever had killed their haechi was still out there, still a threat; they didn’t want to take initiative on hunting something that could end their lives, making their early release from the military pointless. He overheard them exchanging ideas over what it could be: a gae dokkaebi? Or a vengeful gwishin? Sanghyuk shook his head listening to them. They were not taking this seriously. He remembered the fur and the paw prints that could not have been left by any creature he knew of. As he settled into a corner with his bedroll, the wall began shaking, the thundering sound of hooves too close to the building for comfort. He dashed outside to see the horses running towards the gate. He managed to spot his own fleeing from some unknown terror. He shouted out to the horse, calling its name, cursing it as he chased it. He could only think of how he would be punished if he returned home without the animal, ignoring the warning shouts as he followed the horses out of the gate and to the forest.

—

She had managed to slip out of the office as the sun went down, luck on her side. She was glad to have heightened senses with her now. Avoiding the loud soldiers was easy as she sniffed her way to the stables; she needed a distraction and dinner. She kept her nose alert for the smells of her crew members, as well. They should have followed her once they finished the fight at the coast. They should be here. She began to panic when she could not find a trace of any of their scents. The thick smell of blood still hung heavy in the air from the slaughtered haechi, the soldiers still working on cleaning up the remains. She had not been able to control her hunger that night and it showed in her messy execution. She slipped into the stables through a back window, shushing a horse with a stroke to the nose, checking to make sure there weren’t any soldiers watching the animals. With a quiet apology, she focused on making her left hand into it’s clawed paw and swiped at the horse’s hindquarters, sending it into a panic. As the other horses followed suit, she pushed her way to the front of the mass and kicked the doors open, allowing the scared beasts to spill out into the barracks. She waited at the doors, prodding them along with her sharp claws and the occasional guttural growl. As she watched the men run after their precious horses, she calculated where she would go next. Darkness was creeping up, and she still needed to eat.

—

Sanghyuk had carelessly run into the forest in the dark, the only thought in his mind that he couldn’t lose his father’s horse. The horse that he had saved up to buy and only let Sanghyuk borrow with the promise they would both come home safe. He felt tears in his eyes as he wondered if he would be able to keep that promise. After seeing what happened to the haechi, he was dubious. He clicked his tongue and called out for the horse, listening for any movement. The other horses had scattered before the treeline and he was certain he had followed the right one. Its dapper coat would be hard to spot in the dim lighting, but he was determined. He heard a shrill whinny followed by a growl; he immediately ran to the sound, even though everything in his body told him to stay away, shouting out to the horse that he was coming to help. A pained bellow echoed through the trees. He skidded to a stop to listen. The sickening sound of tearing flesh sounded too close for comfort. He warily began walking, crouched low to the ground as he attempted to stay quiet. He finally came close enough to see and he instantly regretted it. A large animal stood over the slain horse, its back to him. He thought he was imagining things at first. Foxes did not stand on two legs and were not that big, was he looking at a gumiho? But no, there were not enough tails. Then the creature’s head turned to face him, and he felt his blood turn to ice.

—

She could smell him before he had even approached her. She always thought it was humorous when humans thought they could sneak up on a werewolf. Her green eyes reflected in the dark as she stared right at him, wondering if he was going to make the first move. She slunk around the other side of the horse’s carcass, maintaining her visual on him; she knew he was alone and just one human was not a match for her. The meat tempted her. She licked her long muzzle, reaching down slowly to tear a piece of flesh from the animal. As she ate, she growled, a low rumble to scare him away. He still had time to leave before her patience wore out. He finally emerged from his hiding place, his courage kicking in after he remembered the dagger still resting against his heart from his journey to the fort. His sharp face was familiar; she recognized him as a hunter from the fort. Did he even have the training to be out here by himself? She let out a guttural laugh that sounded much more menacing as a wolf, the sound distorted through the different vocal chords. He spoke, asking what she was, but she could not understand him. The only way she knew to answer was standing on her hind legs, towering above him and letting him shrink back as he looked her up and down. He suddenly stank of fear. Her maw spread into a toothy grin to show off her sharp fangs and she began to walk to him. He had never seen anything so terrifying and beautiful at once.

—

Sanghyuk maintained eye contact as best as he could as he stood his ground. She was much taller than him on her hind legs, her shaggy tail sweeping the ground with each step. Her arms were bony and long, the clawed knuckles curled up to avoid the ground. He had never seen such a face: tall ears adorned her slender head, with large, glowing green eyes and a snout filled with fangs. He knew it wasn’t a gumiho; this creature was more fearsome, but he didn’t know what else to call it. He slowly reached into the front pocket of his galjungi and grasped the hilt of the dagger. He could tell the creature wasn’t dumb. She knew what he was planning. He only hoped he could be fast enough. He again spoke, asking aloud to whoever was listening for strength, pulling the weapon out for her to see. She huffed and crouched, putting herself in an offensive position on her paws. He could have sworn he saw her nod her head in a challenge. He braced himself, then ran forward, dagger overhead for a hopeful blow to her neck. But of course she was faster than him. Her limbs were longer and more spry; she quickly slipped behind him and grabbed his arm, jerking him backwards toward her. As she watched him fall, she noticed that tears still lingered in his eyes. He did not come here to die. 

—

She hesitated. He clearly did not think his plan through when he followed his horse into the forest. She did not come to a new country to kill humans. The exact opposite, in fact. She had outgrown the wilderness of America and was tired of running. She came to escape and start anew. Stepping back from him, she thought of what she needed to do. Letting him go would mean him returning with more hunters, trained hunters. Killing him would mean she lost a bit of her humanity. He scrambled to back away from her, still gripping his dagger in his shaking hand. She lowered herself to her haunches and watched him. He stopped. His breath was fast and ragged. He couldn’t figure out why she didn’t finish him off when she clearly had the upper hand. He yelled at her to come at him, to finish the job. She tilted her head quizzically. Her large eyes had softened. Before she could change her mind, she rushed him, biting down on his arm that held the dagger. He screamed and brought his other hand to her jaw, trying to loosen her iron grip. Sobbing, he begged her to let go, but she only began dragging him away. She needed to move him away from where his pleas could be heard by his platoon. He dropped his dagger, losing consciousness from the shock of the pain. She hoped her decision to turn him was the right one. She had never sired another werewolf before. But she would need a guide in this new country, someone that knew the language and the customs; someone that would now be bound to her.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanghyuk and Delilah must navigate their way home to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I wrote this in February of 2019 for a writing challenge on Tumblr. I hope you like it!  
> This chapter contains brief mentions of blood, fluff, supernatural violence and brief mentions of nudity.

Sanghyuk watched the snowflakes float down and land on her eyelashes as she slept. She didn’t shiver, the wolf that ran through her veins kept her warm. He had only been a werewolf for six months, not long enough for his body to adjust to being a beast to fight away the cold. She told him to imagine the heat his body produced as a wolf as often as possible, the idea being if he thought he was warm, he would be warm. It hadn’t worked yet. He wrapped his arms around himself tighter and tore his eyes away from her peaceful face. He was supposed to be keeping watch. He was glad she finally trusted him enough for this job. He had watched her try to keep up with him, weary from little sleep and even less food. The mountains in the winter did not supply them with bountiful hunts as the forests in the summer did. He was learning to listen for sounds under the snow from rodents and in trees for birds. While listening was easier as a wolf, it drained his energy more to be a beast and they couldn’t afford for both of them to be exhausted all the time. Their compromise was she would hunt and he would watch. There wasn’t much to watch for anymore. They were finally far enough away from the fort where the soldiers didn’t pursue them. He knew the paths to take to avoid towns but it was making their trip longer. Neither of them could risk being seen. The threat of more invaders coming to the quiet Korean shores was still imminent; she would be killed on sight if people knew where she came from. They were teaching each other their languages, slowly but surely. He practiced her name as his eyes scanned the area. “Delilah, Delilah…Lily,” his whispers drifting away with the snow.

—

June. The nights were hot and sticky, but still Sanghyuk shivered. His skin was slick with clammy sweat; he had given up wearing clothes. His insides twisted and turned so much he couldn’t eat. She tried to help him, but she had never turned anyone before. Anything she brought him to eat, he couldn’t keep down. She could tell he was losing weight; his once muscular frame began to look frail, his cheeks were beginning to sink in. She knew he would eat more as a wolf, if he would only let the animal take him over and control his needs. The wolf would do anything to survive. She remembered when she was first turned how often she would transform just to sate her appetite. They had opposite problems: she changed too much, he wouldn’t change at all. She knew if he would just give up that his body would learn to adjust, and he wouldn’t be in so much pain. She tried telling him this, but she still didn’t know enough of his language. When she would change into the tall wolf in front of him, it frightened him. He didn’t seem to know he was the same as her.

—

“Wake up,” Sanghyuk gently tapped Delilah’s shoulder to try to rouse her. He learned the hard way to not wake a sleeping werewolf a few months ago. She had been better to not immediately attack him, the still pink scar on his shoulder filling her with guilt. At least he didn’t poke at her from a distance with a stick anymore. Delilah blinked and stretched. She smiled at him and praised him for how well his English sounded. Sanghyuk grinned. She sniffed the air and asked him he smelled what she did. He tried to pick up whatever scent she had caught, but could only smell her; she smelled like rain and dirt and sweat. He was drawn to it. “No, I…do not…yet,” he managed to say. She stood, using his shoulder as a crutch to keep from falling over. Her legs had fallen asleep. The feeling of her hand on his body made him freeze. He looked away and kept trying to smell as she wiggled her legs, waiting for them to stop tingling. A whiff of meat, rabbit maybe, drifted into his nose. Quickly, he stood, forgetting she was leaning on him. “Sanghyuk!” She exclaimed as she hit the ground again. The words to apologize weren’t coming to him in English; instead they spilled from his mouth in excited Korean. Adrenaline pumped through his veins; the smell invaded his nostrils and begged at him to go find it. She waved him away with a bemused look. It would be good practice for him. Sanghyuk turned and darted away, surprisingly in the right direction. He didn’t need to transform to find the prey today. Delighted with his progress, she began working on a small fire. Now if only she could get him to eat his meat raw as a human, it would be a huge help. It was harder to translate to him that raw meat wouldn’t make him sick now, that the wolf in him allowed him to eat all sorts of things without risk of harm. Until then, however, he still wanted his meat cooked.

—

July. Moving Hyuk away from the fort became easier when he started complying with her. He realized he didn’t have a choice anymore. When he turned into a wolf, his memory was patchy and unreliable. His human brain wanted to block out the monstrosities the wolf committed. He could recall feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life. He remembered the sounds of his teeth ripping into the hide of a deer. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but he was sick with himself. It felt barbaric. It felt wrong. She showed him how to be able to tell that he was about to change. Whenever she transformed, it felt like a pulling in her chest. His started in his stomach. The aches moved to their heads and that’s when it couldn’t be stopped. Hyuk tried once but the splitting headache it left him threatened to crack his head open and kill him. They began trying to exchange words, the growls and howls of the wolf only enabling them to talk for short periods of time. They drew more attention to themselves when the communicated that way, making it more dangerous. As much as he hated it, the dried blood he would find on his body the morning after kept him cool from the summer sun.

—

Sanghyuk dropped the rabbit by Delilah, brushing his hands on his thighs to clear off the blood. She clapped her hands joyfully and began skinning the coney. He squatted next to the fire. The snow began melting from his worn-down shoes, leaving a small puddle at his feet. The color returned to his hands as her deft fingers prepared the meat for him. Delilah glanced up at him and caught him watching her intently. “Do you want to help?” She asked in broken Korean. He beamed at her for trying his language, but still shook his head no. With his cooking skill, he would ruin it. She smiled and kept working. His gaze wandered from her hands to her muscles, to her neck, to her profile. Her lips looked soft despite the cold air. Her green eyes sparkled, a change from the first night he had seen them. He shuddered, memories of her wolf eyes, filled with rage, that had stared into his as her sharp teeth tore into his flesh. He touched the spot on his arm where he swore he could still feel her fangs embedded. Snapping out of it, he noticed a shadow moving just outside the mouth of their small cave, bobbing back and forth. A deep growl emanated from his curled lips. Delilah quickly stood and watched the spot, waiting to catch a glimpse of what Sanghyuk saw.

—

August. The longing Sanghyuk felt to go home was unbearable. The soldiers had stopped searching for him long ago. He wondered if they had sent word back to his family yet that he was dead. He imagined his distraught mother, his disappointed father. He promised he would come home. He was going to make good on that promise. “I want to go home,” Sanghyuk told her, doing his best to make hand gestures symbolizing a house. She understood enough to tell him no. She couldn’t fully explain why this was a bad idea; she only hoped he was level-headed and could figure it out for himself why he couldn’t see them again. He did. It hurt. His heart ached and he couldn’t keep the tears at bay. He stopped eating again, much to her chagrin. She told him he was acting like a child. They fought, often ignoring each other until she found herself lost in the unfamiliar territory and had to go back to him. As upset as he was with her, they needed each other.

—

Sanghyuk could feel the hair standing on the back of his neck as a dokkaebi emerged from behind the trees. How it had stayed hidden behind the tree he did not know. Delilah stepped behind him. He felt her hand grip his arm. If the dokkaebi knew what she was capable of, he would be the one cowering. “What do you want?” Sanghyuk asked the creature. It laughed and sauntered up to them. Delilah could not keep up with the conversation. She wondered if she needed to change, to fight it. Sanghyuk did not seem worried but he was probably used to seeing such strange beings. It stopped a few meters in front of them and sniffed the air. It could tell Delilah was not all human; it just couldn’t identify what it was smelling. Animal, yes. But no animal it had ever smelled before. The dokkaebi pointed at the rabbit Delilah had dropped into the fire. She had been in the process of skewering it when the creature appeared; now it was burned and ruined. “I want that,” it said with a smirk. Sanghyuk shook his head, “You don’t need it. Leave us alone.” It then pointed at Delilah. “Then I want that,” its tone shifted from mischievous to menacing. Sanghyuk held his arm in front of her and tried to puff himself up to match the dokkaebi in size. It laughed again and charged at them. Sanghyuk’s confidence drained. He ducked before realizing it left Delilah open for harm. “Lily!” He shouted, standing again to defend her.

—

September. It was cold in the mornings and sweltering in the afternoons. Delilah was grateful the humidity was lower now that they were in the mountains, but she wished she was back in her warm desert habitat. Her fur was frizzy and wavy here. The only upside was she didn’t shed as much. At least she wasn’t alone; Sanghyuk often looked less frightening with his chestnut fur in messy waves around his muzzle, a comical mustache that hid his teeth. As humans, they tried to keep their hair pulled up to keep it from sticking to their necks. Delilah combed through her hair with her fingers, braiding it and securing it up with her leather wristband. Sanghyuk tried to copy her but he was not skilled enough; his hair tumbled down his back and made him miserable. She cut her band in half and motioned for him to sit in front of her one night. She braided his hair and tied it up for him, brushing the tips of her fingers down the back of his neck. The feeling of her fingers lingered in his hair.

—

A deafening roar filled the cave. Sanghyuk knew that roar too well. Delilah had quickly transformed and was grappling with the dokkaebi. Sanghyuk could tell it was teasing her. Dokkaebi were notoriously strong, and Sanghyuk was worried that Delilah’s inexperience with them would be her downfall. Her wolf form was taller than the dokkaebi but it outweighed her. He scrambled out of the way of the clawed feet as their fight shuffled across the cold stone floor. Delilah huffed and attempted to put her weight into her shoulder to push the dokkaebi into the fire. It slipped under her and rolled away, causing her to keel over into the flames. She howled in pain. “Lily!” Sanghyuk shouted again. He focused all of his energy to transforming. His stomach churned and electricity shot up through his body. He fell to his hands and knees, ignoring the sounds of the fight in front of him. Claws sprung from his hands, his bones cracked, his skin burned. Turning out of the full moon was more painful for him. He screamed, adding to the noise. The scuffle stopped momentarily as both contenders looked over at the now huge wolf that had been in Sanghyuk’s place. The dokkaebi’s eyes widened. “Two of you,” it said in a low voice. “What are you?” Sanghyuk saw his opening to rush at the dokkaebi and pin it to the ground. He couldn’t hold it down for long. It threw him off and sent him flying back into the snow with a loud thud. Delilah took the opportunity to jump at the dokkaebi again, ramming its left side into the wall of the cave. It howled in pain, so she rammed it again, hitting it under the ribs. The flesh there was softer. It howled again and begged her to stop, but only Sanghyuk could understand it. “Again!” He barked out to Delilah. She nodded and hit it one more time. With a screech, it collapsed to the floor and lay still. The adrenaline had left Delilah and she noticed the smell of her fur and skin burning. She whimpered.

—

October. Delilah had never seen such beautiful foliage. The air smelled clean, the breeze was crisp, the sunsets were amazing. She wondered if his home was this wonderful. No wonder he wanted to return. “Sanghyuk,” she asked in her best Korean, “will your family accept you?” Sanghyuk frowned. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he fully accepted himself yet. He was a monster, no matter how much he had it under control. Delilah gently touched his cheek; he didn’t realize he had tears on his face until she brushed them away. “We can go,” she whispered. She hoped traveling with him a bit longer would allow her to train him better. Maybe they could hide what they were. It might work.

—

Sanghyuk held Delilah in his arms and licked at her wound. She was a stronger wolf than he, but the burn had taken the fight out of her. She could only protest with small whimpers. As a human, he would never dare treat her like this. But the wolf knew what it was doing. Once he had the area clean, he laid her with the burn in the snow and curled up next to her. He nuzzled at her neck, licking at the cuts she had acquired during the fight. He heard a small sigh as she settled her body against his. His heart was pounding. They had never been this close. She put her paw on top of his. It was barely past noon but they wouldn’t be traveling today. Besides the fight, having to transform so quickly and without the help of the moon took their energy away. They would be lucky to find food again and replenish their strength by tomorrow afternoon. At least the dokkaebi was no longer a threat. Sanghyuk was surprised they had made it this long without encountering any obstacles. He hoped it didn’t mean their luck had run out; not this close to home.

—

November. Even if Delilah couldn’t fully understand Sanghyuk, she loved hearing him talk about his family. He could talk about them for hours. It helped pass the time as they trekked through the mountain passes. He told her of their winter celebrations and if they were lucky, they would be arriving home just in time for a feast. They had come across a traveling merchant who let them trade Sanghyuk’s dagger for warm cloaks. Sanghyuk kept Delilah covered up in case the merchant was suspicious of her light hair and foreign features. He asked if there was any news about more raids from ships from far away lands. The merchant was unsure; he was coming from the north where everything was still peaceful. Sanghyuk thanked him for the information anyway. Delilah missed her crew. While Sanghyuk was proving to be a faithful companion, she regretted turning him and wished she had made better choices at the fort all those months ago. She thought about their families back home in the American deserts. She hoped they were surviving.

—

Delilah stirred, cozying up to the warm body behind her. She had changed back to a human in her sleep. She winced as she turned to face Sanghyuk. Her side with the burn felt better since he had placed her on the cold snow. She needed clothes again soon, though, or she would freeze. She tucked her small human body close to his large wolf body to steal some of his heat. He felt her moving and pulled her closer to him to keep her still, a soft snore rumbling in his chest. She placed her ear against his body so she could hear his heartbeat. It was slow again; lucky for him she wasn’t listening in on the flutters of an infatuated heart. She laced her fingers through his fur and lightly scratched. His back leg began kicking in rhythm with her scratches. She giggled. He was a giant puppy. Sanghyuk woke up when her scratches stopped, his large brown eyes blinking down at her. “Thank you,” she told him as she buried her face into his furry chest again. Now that he was awake and aware that a naked woman was clinging to him, his heartbeat shot up again. He couldn’t focus on staying a wolf and before he knew it, he was shifting back. Delilah reluctantly let go of the warm fur and waited for his bones to stop cracking before she tried to grab him again. The loss of the fur left them both shivering; but Sanghyuk was too embarrassed to let her cuddle with him again. He scurried to find their cloaks and hand one to her. She tried to sit up and wrap herself in it, but the pain on her side prevented her from moving too much. Guilt flooded him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her naked before. They often had to leave their clothes behind to transform safely without shredding the thin garments they still had. Once he found scraps of clothes left from his impulsive change, he looked for hers. They were destroyed, nothing to keep her warm left. He knelt and draped the cloak over her, lifting her again once she was bundled.

Despite her protests, Sanghyuk carried Delilah for two days. She could walk, but having her close kept them both warm and they needed that during the cold December days. He assured her they would be home soon. Her wound had begun oozing and they had nothing to fix it with. Delilah told him that meant it was healing. She could see how worried he was when she could only walk on her own a few minutes before needing help. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she was healing or not. It hurt worse than it did when it happened. It seemed her wolf-fast healing time was slowing down. Poor diet, anxiety, and the excursion were taking a toll on her immune system. Sanghyuk noticed that even with his cloak, her cloak, and his body heat, she shivered. She didn’t have the strength to transform this month. The pain left her screaming all night from her body rejecting the change. He did his best to hide her so he could hunt; her screams drove away any potential prey. He returned in the early morning. She had cried herself into a fitful sleep. He held her and caught a few hours of rest before the urgency of reaching his parent’s home made him press on. Sanghyuk couldn’t show her that he was also growing weary.

Delilah had dozed off between the bouts of pain. Her memories were fading. Sometimes she asked Sanghyuk why the desert had so much snow. When he couldn’t explain that she wasn’t home anymore, she cried. She was confused. She was losing her ability to speak with him. The wolf was fighting to take over and keep her alive but the pain prevented it. It made her mind foggy. Sanghyuk continued to talk to her, to remind her of their journey so far. “Please, I need you, please,” he pleaded with her to stay alive. She didn’t understand him. Sanghyuk stumbled home in what felt like a blizzard. Every step was agony. He hadn’t eaten in days. What he could find to eat was frozen, not much salvageable meat left for both of them. Delilah had not had solid food since the fight. He knew he had to make it home to save her. “Lily, hold on,” he whispered to her every night. They were so close. He recognized the hill that hid the house from the southeast. If he could make it to the top, they would be alright. Sanghyuk’s legs took over when his brain told him it was too hard and to stop. He cradled Delilah’s chilled body close as he reached the top. “We made it,” he could barely get the words out, his throat hoarse from the harsh weather. It was the last thing he remembered before collapsing. Delilah woke from the impact. She was weak, but she needed to see his face; she needed to make sure he was alive. As carefully as she could, she turned him on his side to face her, cupping his face in her cold hands. He was breathing. She sighed in relief. “Thank you,” she choked out the words, pressing a cold kiss to his lips. She hoped his family would find them as she drifted off again, the snowflakes covering their still faces.


End file.
